The Love Hypothesis by Ali Hazelwood

“Let’s see . . . What do you like? Aside from tap water and
hard-boiled spinach?”
He gave her a dirty side-look. “How about burgers?”
“Meh.” She shrugged. “I guess. If there’s nothing else.”
“What’s wrong with burgers?”
“I don’t know. They taste like foot.”
“They what?”
“What about Mexican? Do you like Mexican?”
“Burgers don’t taste like—”
“Or Italian? Pizza would be great. And maybe there’s
something celery-based that you could order.”
“Burgers it is.”
Olive laughed. “What about Chinese?”
“Had it for lunch.”
“Well, people in China have Chinese food multiple times a
day, so you shouldn’t let that stop you from— Oh.”
It took Adam two whole steps to realize that Olive had
stopped in the middle of the sidewalk. He whirled around to
look at her. “What?”
“There.” She pointed to the red-and-white sign across the
road.
Adam’s gaze followed, and for a long moment he simply
stared, blinking several times. And then: “No.”
“There,” she repeated, feeling her cheeks widen into a grin.
“Olive.” There was a deep vertical line between his
eyebrows. “No. There are way better restaurants we can—”
“But I want to go to that one.”
“Why? There’s—”